


Baby, Your Love is Going to Change Me

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Soulmates, Surfends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1461127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then, of course, he's looking at a head of lettuce like it's a Crown Jewel and kind of snaps out of it, because that's a little borderline crazy. There's no need to pick up a bag of hotdog buns with such reverence.<br/><b>An ending to Surfends.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, Your Love is Going to Change Me

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write a wrap up for Surfends basically since it... Dwindled off and died, and today I finally got an idea for exactly how to do it.
> 
> So this is my send-off to that RP, and, sadly that universe. <3

It would be weird, maybe, if it wasn't the same grocery store that Chris always went to. It turns out that even if a place changes your life entirely, that place doesn't get put up in a glass case to be observed from a distance for the rest of time. No, Chris has continued to go to this Ralph every week or so ever since it changed his life, and he assumes they will continue to go there until they can afford to support the local markets or they move.

Besides, he can't let it be weird. The entirety of Venice is now saturated with his memories, moments, and milestones, so letting any of them take on a heavier atmosphere is just… Illogical. It's just a grocery store, and that pier is just a pier, and that ice cream shack is just an ice cream shack. Except… At the same time, they're really not.

Still, Chris goes through these places usually without giving any indication that they have any higher meaning to him. But sometimes… Sometimes, their significance stands out to him, a little brighter or a little shinier than usual, and he can't help the way the air feels suddenly different all around him.

Then, of course, he's looking at a head of lettuce like it's a Crown Jewel and _kind of_ snaps out of it, because that's a little borderline crazy. There's no need to pick up a bag of hotdog buns with such reverence.

He ends up there—not even by accident, because the second he felt different, he knew his feet would take him there. Chris does feel like a crazy person when he slows to a stop in the middle of the grocery aisle, half of him chilled by the hotdogs on his right and the other side unaffected by the presence of an array of dressing bottles.

Chris smiles to himself.

It's been a little over a year since the day he fumbled a dressing body, and the fingers he brushed trying to pick it up belonged to his soulmate—belonged to Darren. It's the kind of time that seems too short and too long at the same time, because it's _only been a year_ but how has it _only been a year?_ Chris's hand goes to his hip, where the mark has faded from the fresh vibrant red to the slightly shiny color of a well-loved and story-ridden scar. It's hidden, by the band of his boxers and the fabric of jeans and his t-shirt, but it's there, and when he presses his thumb to the spot, he closes his eyes for just a moment.

"Hey!" A voice calls down the aisle, and Chris's eyes snap open as he turns his head, and there's Darren, frowning and holding two different loaves of bread. "Did we like the kind with the stuff in it or not? Because I know it's more expensive, but it's on sale so I wasn't sure…" Darren comes to a stop , looking around and seeming to realize where they are.

"I don't like the kind with the stuff," Chris clarifies, and Darren nods, setting one loaf in the cart and the other… Also in the cart. Chris gives him a look.

"What? I'm going to put it back. I can't just leave it here with the hotdogs, Chris, that's not where it belongs." Darren sounds so earnest that all Chris can do is smile and shake his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against the cart and… Surveys bottles of dressing. It should be weird, but it's hard for it to feel weird when Darren's beside him, hand coming out to skim over Chris's hip subconsciously—it's like their marks are magnets, always seeking each other out, and always shooting trills of electricity throughout Chris's body.

It turns out his mark is quite an erogenous zone, but… Then again, the same could be said for Darren.

But for now, it's just… A comfort. A reminder that Darren is there, always there, an endless presence that fills in every gap and pore of his life to a point where it should rive them both _insane_ and yet… It doesn't. Chris isn't sure if that's a soulmate thing, or a _them_ thing, but… It doesn't really matter.

Of course, then Darren's fingers begin to swipe under his shirt, searching for skin, and Chris has to bat him away.

"Not here," he scolds, although there's a bit of a laugh in his voice that makes Darren's eyes twinkle.

And Chris remembers, a _year_. A year of discovering and learning Darren in every way he was ever meant to, a process that felt like remembering something he studied and memorized a long time ago and just… Forgot. But it was also about discovering himself, and parts he never knew existed. Facets of himself that had seemed shallow, or weak, that Darren had helped him fill out and strengthen. Sometimes, Chris had hated it, but… It's hard to truly hate the way someone brings out the best in you.

That's what soulmates do, Chris knows. It's what Darren did for him, is still doing for him, and what Chris does for Darren in return.

It's been a year that started on unsteady legs and unsure footing, like fumbling through an overwhelming, confusing darkness in those first few weeks. It was secrets they both had never told before, and the beginnings of a hundred stories that no one else would ever be able to understand the way they did. It was pushing past discomfort and misunderstandings, of stretching their bond as far as they could until it nearly broke completely just for them to rubber-band back together, stronger than ever before.

And Chris smiles again, slipping his hand into Darren's and lacing their fingers, and Darren squeezes once.

"Were you—"

"Thinking about having salad for dinner?" Chris finishes, giving Darren a look. Because Darren knows exactly what Chris is doing, that he's been standing here for far too long and thinking back over… Everything. It hasn't always been good, but it's nearly impossible for Chris to think of Darren and the time they've been together and not smile.

And Darren doesn't push anything. If there's a psychic link between soulmates, Chris likes to think they've nearly perfected it by now. That, or Darren knows when exactly he needs to push, and when it's entirely unnecessary or unwanted.

For now, it's unnecessary. It's a quiet moment for a memory that both of them will always retell with embarrassed laughter and teasing smiles, but that will always be special to them—it's how and where they met, after all. It's how and where they _found_ one another, Darren having looked for so long and Chris having been terrified of never finding what everyone else was promised. It doesn't need fanfare, or discussions, or elaborate celebrations.

It just needs… This. Chris holding Darren's hand, and both of them smiling like the idiots they are (and Chris is okay with it just in this instance—if anyone is allowed to make him into an idiot, it's Darren).

"Yeah," Chris continues, tightening his hold for a moment, like the grasp can somehow connect their hearts together. Like Chris's words and thoughts can flow through it, right into Darren— _thank you, I love you, I'm so glad we found each other_. "What do you think?"

Darren's lips press against his cheek, like maybe he's received Chris's message, and he murmurs. "Sounds good to me."

"Caesar?" Chris asks, finally letting go of Darren's hand to step forward and grab a bottle.

"Oh, are we getting wine, too? A pretentious evening at home?" Darren teases, trailing after him, and Chris whacks him.

"It's not pretentious," Chris retorts, almost like the response is programmed into his brain, and Darren just smiles gleefully.

"It's a _little_ pretentious," Darren counters.

"You love it," Chris hums, plucking a bottle from the shelf and turning to set it back in the cart, and Darren's hand wraps suddenly around his where it's holding the bottle. Chris let's out a little gasp, and then looks at Darren, who leans in and kisses him.

"I love _you_ ," he says, and the words are so full the way Darren says them, like they'll knock Chris over with the force of their existence.

But they don't, not when Chris welcomes them with open arms and an open heart.

"I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> [Read & Reblog on Tumblr](http://missmichellebelle.tumblr.com/post/82635390716/baby-your-love-is-going-to-change-me)


End file.
